


Drabbles and Prompts

by Dirthenera



Series: Thenera Lavellan [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Solavellan, Solavellan Hell, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2020-02-15 19:23:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18675916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirthenera/pseuds/Dirthenera
Summary: A collection of prompts for DA Drunk Writing! Featuring my Lavellen, Thenera.Chapter 1- Bite Me.  Thenera and Solas bicker over Dalish tales, which ends better than she could have hoped. Mild NSFW, though nothing too serious.Chapter 2- You're Cute. Solas heals Thenera after a fight where she's struck by an arrow in the shoulder. Fluff, so much fluff.Chapter 3- Crestwood. Thenera's pov of clearing the wyvern cave. You know. That cavern. Mild language. Angst.Chapter 4- Fingerprints and Denial. Solas' POV as he tries to process the conversation from earlier that evening. Set directly after Chapter 18 of Truths From Dreams. Brooding, not quite angst.Chapter 5- Da'len. Thenera's pov, teaching one of the children of the clan archery.Chapter 6- A game of Truth or Dare in the Tavern turns... Haunting. Fluff and fun. Set somewhere between Chapter 72-77 of Secrets From Dreams.





	1. Bite Me

**Author's Note:**

> This one is canon compliant to Thenera's storyline! Takes place somewhere between Chapter 62-64 of Secrets from Dreams!

“So, fairy tales, Thenera?” Solas asked, a strange mix of emotions on his face, curiosity and annoyance and a hint of amusement. She had been carrying the heavy volume with her through Skyhold for days, and she wasn’t sure the library was getting it back.

“I love them.” She shrugged, leaning back on his couch, resting the tome on her stomach. He crossed from his desk to take the book from her, thumbing through the pages with a look of derision.

“You do realize just how crude the stories of the Elves are? How much they have been mangled over time?” He said, fixing her with one of his _looks_. The one she had come to think of as his ‘Dalish’ look.

“That does tend to happen over time, Vhenan.” She returned, watching his ire spread with amusement. “Would you be willing to enlighten a poor Dalish girl with something closer to the truth?”

She threw her arm over her face dramatically, earning an eye roll from her heart.

“I’m surprised a ‘poor Dalish girl’ would have any interest in the truth.” He returned, handing it back, allowing his ire to lapse into snide teasing.

“Oh, bite me.” Thenera said, quirking a brow to match her smirk. She placed the book back on her stomach, holding it protectively.

“Ma nuvenin, Vhenan.” He said unexpectedly, pitching his gorgeous voice low and intimate. His eyes met hers, stormy and hungry and full of mirth. His lips curled into a smirk to match hers, and her mouth dropped open in surprise. 

The twist of his lips turned predatory, a rare, dangerous smile that sent a shiver down her spine. He stepped forward and leaned over her, trapping her on his couch. He kneeled, one knee landing in the space between hers. The fingers of one long, strong hand reached out and plucked the book from her grip, dropping it to the floor with a heavy thud. Her breath came hard and hot as he drew in, filling the sphere of her vision. 

His hand rose from where he had dropped her book and tangled in her hair, pulling her head to the side as he drew closer, looming above her, hot breath catching her ear. She squirmed under him at the sensation, pulse pounding.

“Already, my heart? I haven’t even done as you bade. Yet.” He murmured, bringing his teeth to graze along her ear. She shivered into him, already growing warm in the chilly rotunda.

“Mmm.” She managed, eyes fluttering shut. 

He pulled her head to the side with the hand still tangled in her silver hair, exposing more of her neck, and slowly peppered gentle kisses across her skin. Her hands reached up to hold him, and he growled at her.

“Not tonight.” He breathed against her, chest vibrating with his voice, heat warming her, too hot, too much and not enough, never enough with Solas. His knee came up between her legs, leaving her straddling his thigh, driving the heat there higher and hotter. 

“Sit on your hands, Vhenan.” He murmured, and she whimpered as she complied.

He bit down unexpectedly and sucked the tender skin, and she gasped as her vision went white, arching against him, trying to press against his body that floated just outside her reach, save for his thigh between her legs, which mercifully pressed harder with his bite.

He released her skin with an obscene, sloppy noise, and blew cold air across the wet spot. Well. That wet spot. The other one was a whole different story. 

She felt his healing magic work into the mark he had surely left, cool and refreshing and tasting of herbs and naps on sun warmed stones, and he pulled back, releasing her hair.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, meeting his decidedly victorious look with a dazed one.

“Well I guess I’ll allow it.” She managed, throat thick with desire.


	2. Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt for DA Drunk Writing Circle! The prompt was "Aww You're Cute"
> 
> I couldn't decide whether to do this from Thenera's POV or Solas', so I did both.

“Aww you’re so cute.” She gazed up at him with a small smile as he pulled her blouse free, green eyes amused even as she winced. He pursed his lips in annoyance as he reached into the angry wound pulsing at her shoulder with his mana, lighting their tent to see his work better. It had been another fight too close for comfort, and a stray arrow which should not have landed. It was very lucky it was so mild, despite the blood soaking her newly ruined blouse.

“Thenera. Your blood loss must be worse than I thought.” He chided, meeting her gaze for a bare moment before returning his attention to the arrow wound, which had gone through the soft part, narrowly avoiding delicate bones and joints that rarely healed cleanly.

“Nah, it’s not too bad. You’ve healed me from worse.” She said, tone nonchalant. One side of her mouth curled up into an asymmetric smile, and he tightened his lips at her cavalier attitude.

“I would feel much more secure if I hadn’t.” He said pointedly, and she had the decency to look chastised. A rare moment before the playfulness crept back into her mien. Perhaps she had, in fact, lost more blood than he had realized. He should see if the camp had any fruit or sweetbreads on hand.

“Yea, but then I wouldn’t get to see you looking all cute and concerned over me.” She said with a smirk.

“You are incorrigible.” He answered. His vhenan, who was never down for long. Who shrugged at blood and wept for spirits. Who was wicked and thoughtful in turns. And always, far too trusting. His magic lapped into her, eagerly accepted, body attuned to his mana and yielding to him.

“Well yes, but you knew that before you fell in love with me, so I think you’re the one posturing at this point.” She stated victoriously. He repressed a small smile and inclined his head.

“I suppose you are not wholly wrong, Vhenan.” He answered. What a pair they were. Stubborn and proud both, her gleefully claiming the vices he kept tight control over. He admired it, the honesty of herself. No number of secrets she kept could lock away that truth.

“Especially about you being cute.” She said, quirking a brow playfully at him. He flushed. That was not precisely a term he had heard himself described as. Perhaps when he had been very young. His flush deepened. So often, he could almost forget how very old he was compared to her. She was light and life, offering them freely to him.

He finished his work on her shoulder, leaving her perfect, creamy skin intact and unmarred. He wondered just how much she could feel from his magic. If she could feel the love that poured through it, how her name sang in his veins. It was an odd intimacy. Something that had once been so poignant in Elvhenan, the tasting of another's mana, that was now little more than clinical, cut off. Another echo of days long past.

One more thing he could never share with her, because of the veil, his hubris. One mistake, the lesser of all the evils possible and still horrific.

He raised his eyes to meet hers, brilliant green drifting shut with a contented smile. She leaned against him, silvery hair against his jaw soft, her weight against him grounding, pulling him back to the present.

“I believe I will worry every time you’re injured, Vhenan.” He murmured against her, closing his eyes against the thoughts that threatened to rob him off this moment, of all the moments yet to come until the end.

Always, the inevitable end.

“Maybe.” She answered sleepily. She made a small sound and wrapped her arms around him, drawing closer, closing the space he tried so hard to maintain. Holding him as though she would lose him. Or perhaps she knew she would. Their time together was precious, every moment. He buried his head against her hair, breathing her in, roses and forest and the echo of blood. The smell of soft armor leather she stripped in precise movements each night, of the mountains and forests she called home.

“Stay with me tonight? Please?” She asked, uncertain hope in her voice that broke his heart, just a little. His fearless vhenan, who feared vulnerability above all, fearful he would turn away. Fearful he would leave her. He swallowed, nodding against her.

“Ma nuvenin.” He managed. He coaxed her to lay on her bedroll and he pulled her tight against his chest, holding her as though she might slip away as he slept. She vey well might. She settled her hand over his heart, and with it full to bursting with everything that lay between them, he drifted into the Fade and away from his dream.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aww you’re so cute.” She watched Solas’ face as he carefully peeled her tunic off, brows knit in concern as his mana reached into her injured shoulder. They were in their tent for the evening, a better place for thorough healing than the Red Templar infested forests around them.

“Thenera. Your blood loss must be worse than I thought.” He chided, glancing into her eyes with a flat look before returning his attention to the arrow wound. It had gone clean through the squishy bit, but an elfroot potion had already taken the edge off, and his magic suffusing her body made her feel… Other things.

“Nah, it’s not too bad. You’ve healed me from worse.” She shot him a lopsided smile that he didn’t return, giving her one of chagrin instead.

“I would feel much more secure if I hadn’t.” He said pointedly. She did really need to get better about this, about not rushing through the areas she couldn’t quite remember from her dreams. Or just… Become a better fighter, better at dodging, quit letting her guard down quite so much. Stupid squishy elf bits.

“Yea, but then I wouldn’t get to see you looking all cute and concerned over me.” She answered playfully.

“You are incorrigible.” He answered, shooting her another chastising glance over the skin of her shoulder that was now turning shiny and pink from his ministrations. It wouldn’t even scar. He was such a talented healer.

“Well yes, but you knew that before you fell in love with me, so I think you’re the one posturing at this point.” She, not quite gloating but close. He tilted his head in acknowledgement, a touch in a fencing match.

“I suppose you are not wholly wrong, Vhenan.” He answered, a ghost of a smile hovering on his lips.

“Especially about you being cute.” She said, raising a brow and watching him flush with glee. His consternation took on a different tone, but she couldn’t imagine many had called Fen’Harel _cute_. He focused on finishing his work instead, the thrum of his mana slowly retreating from her. That was odd, and new. She felt its loss this time in a way she hadn’t previously.

It seemed the closer they got, and the more often he used his magic on her, the more intimate it felt. The more it felt like the support of her lover, wrapping her in a comforting embrace, than the clinical feeling the first time he had healed the cuts and scrapes from battle, despite his magic tasting the same. It was leather and woodsmoke and herbs, of lazy days with time to dream and sun warmed stones. Elfroot and the smell of old books, and paint, and plaster. She noticed more nuances every time, almost like she was discovering more layers, more things that had been left in plain sight, ready for her to see when ready for them.

Her eyes drifted shut, and she leaned against him, enjoying the moment. Enjoying their time together while it lasted.

“I believe I will worry every time you’re injured, Vhenan.” He said, answering a question she hadn’t asked.

“Maybe.” She answered, wrapping her arms around him. She wished she knew. Knew if he would be worried as he led her through the Qunari infested mirrors at the end of this path. If he would even think about how difficult of a fight it would be, if he had done that on purpose to her, or if somewhere down the line, he had changed. If taking Mythal’s power had changed him.

If it would happen the same way this time.

“Stay with me tonight? Please?” She asked. She hoped it would be different, that maybe, just maybe, she could change it, despite the warning in her gut. He nodded against her.

“Ma nuvenin.” He responded, and curled around her in their tent, ignoring his bedroll across the aisle of effects he kept between them most nights. He pulled her close, tucked against his chest, and they both drifted into very different dreams.


	3. Crestwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this should probably be chapter 68 of Secrets, their first trip to the one cavern in Crestwood. You know the one. Augh. 
> 
> Written for a prompt, 'Fuck you.'

A tremor if unspent energy ran through her arm as she took the final steps out of the cave. It was surreal, seeing this place, this clearing like this.

_Then what I must tell you… The truth._

The sun streamed in, lighting the status of Ghilain’nan, the rich smell of wet vegetation filling her nose. Disquiet filled her. This place. Ugh. A tremor of panic raced under her skin, and tears threatened to overtake her, so at odds with this peaceful, beautiful clearing filled with statues to her gods. Bird cries echoed around her.

_And I am sorry. I distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again._

A noise from the pool pulled her back to the present, an insistent twinge from the anchor reminding her of the battle to come. Quickly, before her party could ask questions, could note her strangled expression. It was lucky she could blame the anchor.

“Get behind me.” She said, just loud enough for the group to hear, and the wyvern’s heads snapped up at the noise. She raised her marked hand towards them.

Fuck this cavern.

Her anger, bitterness, and hurt all mingled, pulling through her with the magic of the mark, of the fade, of him. The space over the water exploded into deafening green light, a boom echoing oddly in the circular space. She watched with grim satisfaction as the wyverns writhed in agony, and drew her bow, laying arrows as quickly as she could into the largest of the three.

Following her cue, Dorian and Solas began firing into the sphere of green energy as well, Varric firing off Bianca to match. Bull and Cole stood on either side of Thenera, tense and ready.

“It’s not the pool’s fault.” Cole offered quietly as the green light faded. “Does it help the hurt?”

She glanced at the spirit before he bounded away, and she turned back, loosing another arrow as her voice caught in her throat. She was distracted and she knew it. She backed up, towards the mouth of the cave, in case she needed to run, in case her memories of this place overwhelmed her.

Bull roared as he slammed his hammer into the skull of one of the smaller ones, a sickening crack splitting the clearing as it broke beneath everite, and the creature dropped without ceremony. The other two roared, and she managed to fire just as the other small one reared, exposing its neck, and the arrow went clean through. It thrashed as Cole flitted away, nearly hit but not, and fell still.

Only one left. The largest one, in bad shape. Chunks of flesh were missing or charred, but somehow it still moved, screaming as it lunged and swiped at Bull, tail lashing as Cole tried to approach it, a blurring shadow that didn’t seem to quite touch the ground.

_You are so beautiful._

Thenera stuttered, costing precious seconds before the adrenaline pushed the thought from her mind. Solas threw lightning from his staff as Dorian enveloped Bull and Cole in a barrier, and Bull, not to be outdone, screamed right back at the thing as it convulsed from the electric current, which carried through the water and grounded harmlessly, unable to reach the melee fighters through their barrier.

Bull’s hammer connected again, and the wyvern shook its head, attempting to dispel the blow. Thenera loaded an exploding arrow, aiming for the join above its arm, loosing it to find its mark with all the force she could muster.

“Fuck you.” She murmured to the cavern as her arrow flew.

As it landed, the wyvern convulsed with another jolt of lightning, Bull struck it again, and Cole had blurred around somewhere behind it’s other leg joint, and the beast fell to the cavern floor with a huff. Bull let out a whoop of victory.

“This was great Boss, when do we get to fight a real one?” Bull asked, grinning as the barrier slipped from around him. He bent down to rinse some of the muck from his hands and forearms, holstering his weapon after cleaning it.

“I for one could do with much less of this fighting in damp and muddy conditions.” Dorian added, casting an ascerbic look to Bull. Defintley not appreciating the water on the Qunari’s muscles. Certainly not.

“I dunno Bull. But I promise we will.” Thenera responded, offering a weak smile as she turned to leave the clearing, shooting one last look over her shoulder as she left. She was in no state to strip the hides, and they had been mangled enough it would barely be worth it anyways. Solas looked at her curiously, and she gave him a reassuring smile. Or, what she hoped was reassuring. Those were questions she really, really didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want to accidentally change things and wind up caught off guard. He moved closer to her, within the sphere of privacy, and she mouthed ‘anchor’ to him with an apologetic look. It pulsed in her palm as though to demand Thenera not lie to him, and she let herself wince.

He pulled closer yet, capturing her unmarked hand in his, and he squeezed it in a brief reassurance as they left the cavern, very probably the only time they would be leaving this place together. The next time…

She swallowed, turning her face from Solas as her eyes prickled. Maybe in another world. Or maybe… Just maybe, in this one.


	4. Fingerprints and Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solas' POV, this bit is set after Chapter 18 of Truths From Dreams, right after their conversation about fingerprints. 
> 
> The prompt I got was ‘There is nothing quite as sublimely unsatisfying as infatuation' from Contreparry! Thank you! And if anyone wants to send me a prompt on tumblr, feel free, same handle!

“You’ve been staring towards her tent for the last five minutes, Chuckles.” Varric’s voice, full of smug expectation, pulled him from his reverie, and he covered the jolt the dwarf’s words produced.

“Ah. Forgive me, I was simply staring, I was unaware it was in the direction of the Herald.” The words from their earlier conversation rang in his head, echoing and reverberating through him. Fingerprints on her soul. It was no wonder at the direction he had chosen to stare, but he would need to be more careful in the future, to keep this would be matchmaker from making everything worse.

“Yea… You keep telling yourself that.” Varric smirked. “You guys have a good time off in the forest?”

“I was tasked with retrieving our Herald, which I did. I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, Master Tethras.”

“Oh come on. We both know you’re smarter than that, Chuckles. And you keep forgetting that I’m a writer. And I was a spy. I know that look.”

“The herald is fascinating. The magic she carries is unusual, tied to the veil quite directly.”

“And?”

“And? She has handled herself quite well for being thrust into this role. Her decision making skills seem sound, and she has proven herself capable in battle.”

“Bullshit. Watching the two of you is gonna give me an ulcer.”

“I’m unsure what you might mean by that.”

“Yea. Of course you are. ‘There is nothing quite as sublimely unsatisfying as infatuation’.” He quoted, and drained his mug.

“That is not a line I have heard, where is its source?” He asked. Fingerprints on her soul. Things would certainly be easier without this strange infatuation, curling and growing in spurts and tender tendrils. In jealous moments and protective surges that forced him into an uneasy acknowledgement. Sublimely unsatisfying, indeed.

“A letter. The kind you read until the paper crumbles.” He rose from the log they had been seated at, before the dying embers of the fire. “I’m turning in. Gonna be another long ass day on horseback and this ass needs the rest.”

The dwarf turned, and made his way to the tent they had been sharing.

Solas stayed by the fire. His skin felt too tight, stretched over too many emotions, feeling as though he might suffocate if he tried to force them into the tent with Varric’s judgement.

He couldn’t know. Couldn’t know the reason for the distance, had no idea what the people of this world had been robbed of, how they were barely people at all, and this infatuation was ill conceived at best. Fingerprints on her soul.

He added more wood to the fire, rising and pacing, trying to release the tension that jumped every time her words replayed in his mind.

_‘And you? There are people who are important. There are people you love and would happily give your life for. And then there are people who leave their fingerprints on your soul.’_


	5. Da'len

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thenera teaches one of the younger clan members to shoot a bow.

“I will get Andruil’s Vallaslin I think.” Laisa said, always too serious for her age. She raised her bow and loosed an arrow, motion growing smoother with each day they practiced together. The arrow struck, not the center of the target, but not far off either. Very good for the few weeks of instinct shooting they had been practicing. Very good for the fact that she had shot up several inches over the last year and now towered over the boys her age.

She was long and lean and far too skinny for her age, golden Rivaini skin stretched tight over bones and the stretchy muscle of youth. Her hair shone chestnut in the sun, red tones showing where light spilled through. She stood in split stance, weight distributed evenly between her feet, too early in her training to practice movement while shooting.

Her mother had hoped she would grow up to follow her path, gathering herbs for dyes and creating gorgeous embroideries the clan would sell when they neared shem civilizations. But Laisa wanted little more than to become a hunter. She would never share Sylaise’s markings with her mother. 

“Very good. And why is that? You have plenty of time before you need to decide.” Thenera asked as Laisa let another arrow fly. This one struck further out. “Drop your shoulders. Don’t forget to exhale.”

Laisa’s deep umber eyes relaxed, the tiny line between her brows smoothing as she relaxed her shoulders. She nocked the next arrow, breathed out, and raised the bow and released in a smooth motion. This one struck true, and her face shone with happiness Thenera could not help but echo.

“I want to get mine at sixteen like you Thenera! That's six years. And this is why. Vir Assan. Fly straight and do not waver.” Laisa answered, the first part of a mantra. She nocked the next arrow. “Vir Bor’assan. Bend but never break.”

The arrow hit the very edge of the target, one of the pitfalls of a good shot, becoming comfortable. Laisa knew, and forced her shoulders back again, taking another steadying breath before raising her bow again. This arrow struck true, right next to the other one she had placed in the bullseye, a satisfying thunk as it skimmed the arrow beside it before embedding in the target.

“Vir Adalhen.” Thenera finished for her. “Give thanks for the bounty of the hunt, for the clan, for together, we are stronger than as one.”

Laisa smiled at her, barely showing the gap where a new tooth was beginning to grow. She was proud of her grouping, which was getting tighter with practice. Soon, she would have to switch to volleys of five arrows instead of ten. Soon, she would be ready to begin hunting alongside Thenera.

She was so eager to grow up, so eager to be an adult, to be responsible, to fly along her path. A pang hit for the feeling, one that was desperately familiar, one she wished she could have talked herself out of. 

This childhood was precious. There was no pressure. To bond, to feed the clan, to defend it from would be pillagers. No need to see the inner ugly workings that led to a loss of innocence. 

They returned the arrows to Laisa’s quiver.

“What color will you choose for your markings?” Thenera asked, giving in. There would be no talking her out of it, and every attempt would only make her push harder. 

“White. Like the halla. So I can revere them and the goddess of the hunt together.” She answered decisively. 

Thenera smiled sadly, and draped her arm around Laisa’s shoulders before heading back to camp.


	6. Truth or Dare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Da Drunk Writing Circle! I got this prompt from ApostateTabris on Tumblr and had a lot of fun with it once I figured out how to coerce Solas into agreeing! Also think I have written one of my all time funniest lines in this. Fits into the storyline sometime between chapters 73-77.

“Inky, ya wanna play?” Sera shot her a smile over her tankard.

“Wow. I haven’t played in like ten years.” She mulled it over for a moment, steepling her fingers. This could go very badly. Or be amazing. She grinned, leaning forward and putting her elbows on the rough wooden table. “Ok. I’m in if Solas is.”

She glanced next to her to see Solas’ lips tighten in disapproval, and Sera rolled her eyes in response. Varric chuckled from her other side. They were sitting on the second floor of the tavern, where Sutherland and his crew spent time when they were in the keep, but they were currently out on assignment. 

“Pbbft. Like we need dusty head to tell us even more about the Faaaaade. Augh. No thank you.” Her nose crinkled with her words.

“I am not playing truth or dare.” Solas replied flatly, leaning back in his chair and holding his cup loose in his lap. Thenera sighed. Of course not. Too bad. She turned to the man sitting across from her, next to Sera.

“What about you Blackwall?” 

“Oh, I think it might be best for me to sit this one out.” He glanced away, crossing his arms.

“You say that now, but this is gonna get interesting.” Bull leaned forward, grabbing his tankard. “Krem de la Krem and I are in.”

“Chief. I wish you’d stop calling me that.” Krem grimaced. “Yeah. I’m in.”

“Oh, this is gonna be good. Count me in too.” Varric grinned, pulling out a notebook and his trusty travel inkpot. “Just remember I’m an unreliable narrator.” 

“Solas, you sure you’re out?” She turned back to him, expression hopeful.

“Yeah Solas, people will think you’re hiding something.” Bull remarked.

“Hm. Or the Qunari spy is simply fishing for information.” He returned, eyes narrowing in distrust.

“Well, yeah. But it’ll be fun!”

“Come on Chief, we all know you just want an excuse to get drunk and naked.”

“That too.” Bull shrugged. Solas sighed, obviously weighing his options. “Oh come on Solas! You’ll make Boss nervous with all your secrets!”

“Very well. I will play.” He replied, resigned.

“Good yeah! Wardenface here gotta get in on the action too.” Sera ribbed, shoving her elbow in his side. He scowled at her and batted her elbow away, heaving a sigh.

“I suppose if even Solas here is playing, I will as well. At least it’s not Diamondback.” He grumbled.

“WEEEEE!!! CABOT, ANOTHER ROUND!” Sera called over the music, which continued apace. Maryden must be used to her antics.

A grunt of assent came from the bar below, louder than it had any right to be.

“Alright, Inky. Since you’re miss leaderbits here, you get to go first! Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Ooooh, a brave one Inky. Lessee. I dare ya to blow a raspberry on ‘Elven Glory’s shiny head.”

Thenera shot a playful glance to Solas, quirking a brow in question. He replied with a resigned, annoyed look, and she rose to stand above him, placing her lips gently on his head before blowing the raspberry. 

Solas let out a long suffering sigh.

“Your turn Vhenan, truth or dare?” She turned a smirk to him and quirked a brow expectantly.

“Truth.” He replied, acting entirely at ease. 

“Ooooh.” She considered. There were just so many options! But what didn't she know that he might actually tell her? What had she always wondered? “Well, Solas. Tell me; have you ever had sex with a spirit?”

“Eaugh! Why do you even want to know?” Sera exclaimed.

“That is a complicated question.” Solas replied slowly.

“That’s a yes.” Blackwall commented with a victorious swig, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

“Not all that complicated. I’ve had lots of sex dreams. You get the option for yours to be lucid. I would in your shoes, errr, foot wraps. Have you?”

“Why Glowy, I never would have guessed you were quite so raunchy! I mean Rivaini sure, but sex dreams!”

“You know that’s pretty normal right?” She asked, and Varric’s eyes went wide.

“What?” He spluttered. “How normal? Is everyone but dwarves getting laid regularly?”

“Some dwarves do.” Krem said, then lowered his mouth to his tankard, mumbling. “Just apparently not you.”

Varric glared, and Thenera took the opportunity to turn back to Solas with an expectant look.

“I have… Shared intimacy that many might consider sexual with a spirit, yes.” He admitted hesitantly, ears pink and freckles contrasting beautifully with his flush. 

“See now, that wasn't so hard.” She responded, and winked at him with a pointed glance at other things that _could_ be hard. 

She heard a strangled sound across the table and looked over to see Bull with a horrified expression on his face. Oh. He _had_ been awfully quiet through that.

“Not all sex dreams are with demons right???” He asked, eye wide. Krem stifled a laugh with a cough, and patted his shoulder.

“Technically yes, spirits are involved. Though most dreams are formed by little more than a collection of wisps drawn to strong emotions.” Solas explained calmly.

“So… Are they demons? Have I been fucking demons all this time?” Bull said, panicky as he looked down at his junk like it might be haunted. Thenera couldn’t help the cackle that bubbled out and she was met with five horrified eyes as Bull, Sera, and Varric all stared at her.

Solas sighed.

“No, though I expect most would see it that way.”

“You dreamers are weird.” Varric said, brows furrowed and an expression of distaste as he took a deep drink, draining his tankard and setting it back on the table with a thud. He stoppered his ink and rose, collecting his things. “I don’t think I can put this shit in a book.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Bull's dick is now haunted


End file.
